


makeover

by luckylikeyou



Series: dacryphilia verse [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Dacryphilia, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Hair-pulling, Light Impact Play, M/M, Makeup, Oral Sex, Pain Kink, Rough Oral Sex, Safeword Use, Shower Sex, Sub-Drop, dtao3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:54:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29300727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckylikeyou/pseuds/luckylikeyou
Summary: george and clay lose a bet to karl, and his punishment of choice: force them to wear makeup and post humiliating photos. what karl didn't expect was that the two of them would like it a little too much.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: dacryphilia verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2152038
Comments: 79
Kudos: 920





	makeover

**Author's Note:**

> i know this is a sequel to pretty tears but it's not solely focused on dacryphilia. there's still quite a bit of dacryphilia here, but it's not the main focus of the fic like it was for pretty tears. this technically can be read as a standalone, but i would recommend reading pretty tears first
> 
> enjoy!

“ _no!_ ” george shrieks, throwing off his headset and putting his face in his hands. clay is caught between laughing and crying as he unplugs the headset to hear karl’s triumphant hollering coming from the desktop speakers.

“ _yes!_ i won!” karl says through his giggles.

clay stares at george’s red computer monitor, the words “you died!” reading bright across the top of the screen, mocking both of them. george still has his hands covering his face, hiding the screen from view and acting like it’s not displaying his blatant loss.

“i can’t believe i won against both of you!” he shouts. clay leans back in his chair and sighs.

about a week ago, karl challenged both clay and george to a 1v1v1 bedwars game, with the winner being given the opportunity to make the other two do whatever they wanted. clay still remembers the mischievous giggles coming out of karls mouth whenever he first proposed the idea. safe to say, each one of them were terrified of what the others had in store.

karl declared that the winner would be the first person to win five rounds. they each took turns gaining wins, and the score was down to george and karl with four wins and clay with three when karl finally went all out and utterly destroyed the both of them in the last round, securing his title as the champion with his fifth and final win. after losing his bed and dying, clay quickly ran to george’s room just in time to watch him die to karl.

“you know what this means, boys!” karl snickers.

“what are you gonna do to us?” george asks in fear.

“you’re just gonna have to find out,” he says, keeping a frustrating air of mystery. clay has no clue what karl has in store, probably something dumb.

they say their goodbyes, karl leaving with a slew of half-joking insults directed at them ( _“i literally boxed both of you like a fish”_ ) and a promise of a surprise coming the following weekend.

clay watches as george’s body deflates while he closes out of minecraft. he pats his back in an attempt to be comforting.

“it’s not even the punishment i’m upset about, it’s the fact i lost to _karl_.”

clay wheezes and stands up from the chair he had dragged over to george’s desk. he walks around the back of george’s own chair and wraps his arms around his neck, setting his chin carefully in george’s hair.

“even if you got destroyed by karl, you’re still number one in my heart,” clay jokes, and george snorts. clay can’t resist placing a kiss on the crown of george’s head.

after months of sexual frustration, emotional constipation, and tiptoeing around george, clay feels ecstatic that he can finally be with george like this. confessing both his sexual frustration and romantic attraction to george after getting embarrassingly hard during an argument was utterly mortifying, but completely worth it in the end. he loves how he can kiss george when he wants, touch him when he wants, fuck him good and make him cry any way he pleases. clay’s guilty imagination is nothing compared to the real thing right in front of him.

“it won’t be that bad,” clay reassures him, “what’s the worst karl can do to us?”

••• 

“ _we have to post a picture?_ ” clay asks incredulously.

“yup!” karl says cheerfully, arranging all of his things in front of him.

clay’s eyes scan the table, taking in all of the makeup in front of him. he barely recognizes any of this stuff, all of it looks completely foreign to him. he sees something with little squares of different colors and thinks it might be eyeshadow, but he honestly doesn’t know. he had no idea karl even had this much stuff.

“where did you get all of this?” george asks, voicing clay’s thoughts.

“most of it is my sister’s stuff. i would watch her do her makeup and i wanted to try it myself, so now she lets me do her makeup sometimes. i’d like to say i’m pretty good at it, too,” karl brags.

clay rolls his eyes. “don’t flatter yourself, karl.”

he almost feels intimidated by all the palettes and pencils and brushes in front of him. he hopes karl doesn’t poke his eye out. clay originally wasn’t that opposed to the punishment that karl proposed, but once karl informed them they had to post _pictures_ , he was suddenly reluctant. pictures? on his instagram? for all his friends and family to see?

“can we just get this over with already,” clay huffs, sitting down in karl’s desk chair. karl sits down opposite him and plucks out a small bottle filled with a pale tan colored liquid and grabs a small egg shaped object.

“what is that?” clay asks, watching as karl uncaps the bottle and pumps a small amount of the substance onto the egg shaped thing.

“it’s a sponge for applying foundation,” he informs, then begins dabbing the sponge on clay’s face. he flinches at the cold liquid being spread across his entire face. out of the corner of his eye he can see george laughing at him, and he glares back.

“this isn’t funny,” he mutters.

“i think it’s pretty funny,” george counters, reaching for his phone to take photos. clay scowls.

“well you’re next, so we’ll see how funny it is then.”

after the foundation, karl takes out a big brush and a container of some dusty powder and swipes it across clay’s face. he has to resist the urge not to sneeze at the dust and bristles attacking his nose. how the fuck do people do this every day? he wants to be finished with it already and karl has barely begun.

he sits there and tries not to flinch as karl picks up a small brush, dipping it into some brown pigment and then swiping it across his eyelids. it feels so invasive having something so close to his eyes, the soft bristles of the brush tickling his skin and making him squirm. he keeps his eyes closed, listening to karl rummage around in his collection of makeup, looking for something. clay opens his eyes to see what looks like a black pencil coming right straight for his eye.

“what the fuck is that?” he yelps, grabbing karl’s wrist.

“it’s eyeliner, idiot.”

“you’re gonna fucking stab me in the eye with that!”

karl rolls his eyes at clay’s statement and george’s shoulders shake with his poorly muffled giggles. he wants to strangle them both.

“just close your eyes, it won’t take that long,” karl orders, and clay reluctantly shuts his eyes.

the pencil drags across his eye right next to his eyelashes, and it’s the worst feeling yet. he tries to lean back to get away from the feeling, but karl grabs his head and holds him still. clay sits and waits, praying for karl to get this over with. both of karl’s hands retract, and he slowly opens his eyes.

“you look sexy,” george says, and karl busts out in high pitched laughter.

“can you finish already,” clay groans.

karl grabs a tube of what clay assumes to be mascara, and swiftly unscrews it and pulls the spiky wand out. clay gulps at the intimidating sight.

“i promise it’s not that bad, just open your eyes and blink when i tell you to,” karl says, leaning in with the terrifying brush headed straight for his eyes.

clay has to hold his breath as karl presses the wand up to his eyelashes and tells him to blink. the feeling of the brush swiping across his eyelashes as he blinks is so foreign and uncomfortable, but clay powers through it. karl coats his left eye with mascara, and then moves to the right eye and coats that one too. he nearly pokes clay’s eye when he flinches, and he ends up just dragging karl’s hand away.

“okay, okay, enough mascara, please just finish this already,” clay pleads.

karl closes the mascara and sets it aside, picking up the final item. clay groans as he uncaps a tube of lipstick, spinning the base and rolling out the lipstick. it’s a medium pink shade, not too bright, but definitely pinker than his natural lips. clay hesitantly opens his mouth and allows karl to drag the lipstick across his lower lip.

clay’s eyes flit up to where george is looking at him from behind karl. he has a small smirk across his lips as he stares down at clay’s dolled-up face. he’s probably enjoying clay looking like this, and it would be annoying if clay wasn’t also just a little bit excited to see his boyfriend in makeup, too.

karl finishes swiping the lipstick across clay’s upper lip. “okay, now rub your lips together,” karl instructs, and clay complies. he loves the way george watches him perform the action.

“alright, you’re finished!” karl announces cheerfully.

“can i see?” clay asks. karl grabs a circular table mirror he had sitting aside and holds it up to show clay his own reflection.

he’s almost taken aback at how different he looks. his skin looks smoother and more uniform in color, his freckles being nearly invisible. his eyes are a smoky brown with a shimmery gold color in the middle, dragging down into the inner corner of his eyes. the black eyeliner paints a line up away from his outer corner, making his eyes look sharper and more intense, and the mascara makes his eyelashes look longer and darker than before. the lipstick is pretty, filling in the color on his usually pale lips. he hates to admit it, but george was right—he looks sexy.

he makes eye contact with george through his dark lashes. “do i look good?” he asks in a low voice, even if he already knows the answer.

“you look very pretty,” george replies, wetting his lips with his tongue. clay wants to kiss him hard and leave pink lipstick stains all over his pale neck.

“alright, guys, quit flirting and george sit down,” karl says with a grimace. “this was meant to be humiliating, not erotic.”

george laughs at karl’s complaint and he and clay trade places, now with george sitting in the seat in front of karl. clay can’t lie, he’s excited to see what george will look like with the makeup on. he can imagine how the dark, sultry makeup will accentuate his features and make him look more attractive, if that’s even possible.

he watches in curiosity as karl repeats all the steps he did on clay, but this time on george. it’s more fascinating to see it done on someone else than having to put up with it yourself. he can’t help but stare as karl takes a brush and darkens george’s eyeshadow, then picks up the eyeliner pencil and draws a dark cat-eye shape. george doesn’t struggle nearly as much as clay did with the mascara, he simply lets karl coat his eyelashes with the black substance. karl recaps the mascara, and then the best part begins.

clay watches with intent as karl picks up another tube of lipstick, different than the one he used on clay. this one is darker, a more rich and deep pink shade, dragging across george’s soft lips and painting them a pretty color. clay can’t take his eyes off george’s lips when he rubs them together, spreading the product around. now he understands why george was staring at him so hard, the sight is breathtaking.

karl picks up the mirror to show george, who marvels at himself in the reflection. the way he meets clay’s gaze, brown eyes rimmed in dark makeup, makes a fire start to burn inside of him. he looks fucking hot.

“please quit looking at each other like that for two seconds and let’s take these photos,” karl pleads.

he makes all three of them stand together, karl in the middle and clay and george on either side of him. he raises his phone and positions them so they’re all in the frame, clicking the screen and capturing a photo. he quickly opens up his camera roll to look at the image, clay peering at his phone from over his shoulder.

it’s a good photo, most likely the silly one that karl envisioned. clay was embarrassed about this whole thing at first, but now he couldn’t care less. it doesn’t matter if karl posts the image or not, clay just wants to get home so that he can be alone with george. he can barely control himself the more he looks at george, and he can tell that george is feeling the same way.

“alright, i’ve got what i wanted,” karl says, hitting post on instagram and uploading the image of the three of them. “now can you guys get out of here before you have sex inside my apartment?”

••• 

as soon as they close the front door, they’re immediately all over each other. clay kisses george until he runs out of air, biting his lips and licking into his mouth, tearing him apart. george’s hands find their way up to clay’s hair and tangle in the strands, pulling hard. clay gasps into george’s mouth at the pain, but his dick only gets harder at the stinging in his scalp. george uses the grip he has on clay’s hair to pull him back and interrupt the way he is assaulting his lips. when they pull apart, george’s lipstick is smeared all over his mouth, and clay imagines he probably looks the same way.

“hey, pretty boy,” george murmurs, gently stroking his head in an apology for pulling his hair. he looks so fucking good like this, the smoky makeup surrounding his already dark and lustful eyes has him looking like something right out of clay’s wet dreams.

“you’re rather pretty yourself,” clay replies, looking down at him through his mascara coated lashes. “wanna join me in the shower?”

george doesn’t offer a reply but instead smiles, reaching down for clay’s hand and dragging him to the bathroom.

they both quickly strip off their clothes, clay reaching in the shower and turning the faucet on. they kiss a little more while they wait for the water to warm up. clay bites george’s lip and tastes the foreign flavor of the lipstick that is being smeared around both of their mouths. clay’s lips move down to george’s neck, tilting his head back so he can access the smooth skin more easily, although he still has to bend down a good amount. he presses kisses on the column of george’s throat, leaving pink lipstick prints all across his pale skin. george laughs at the ticklish sensation and clay’s heart swells.

“the water is warm, let’s get in,” he says.

they step in the shower together, clay reaching over to adjust the temperature of the water so that they weren’t being burned by the scalding water. clay’s hands slide up to cup george’s cheek and tilt his head upwards so that their lips meet again. they kiss softly, george’s arms coming to wrap around clay’s waist so that they’re pressed flush together. clay can feel george’s erection pressing against his thigh, so he grinds forwards a little bit to make him groan. george leans back but clay chases his lips, not wanting to stop all the sweet sounds that leave his mouth with every kiss. they’re both standing under the spray now, the warm water cascading down their faces, but clay doesn’t care. he rubs his thigh harder onto george’s dick, making him keen underneath him.

clay pulls back from the kiss and when he does, his heart nearly stops.

while they were standing under the faucet, the water had been pouring down their face—clay had vaguely realized that it was probably ruining their makeup, but he didn’t think of the implications of that until he pulled back from george and was met with the sight of black mascara tracks running down his cheeks.

clay was already relatively hard from their kissing, but as soon as he saw george’s face, he was rock hard in seconds. the eyeshadow is slightly smeared from the water but the _mascara_ , the cheap dollar store mascara washes down george’s pale cheeks and leaves black marks in its wake. he looks so good, so debauched, he looks like he’s been _crying_.

“fuck,” clay whispers.

“what?” george asks, looking up at clay.

clay can’t respond, his brain is too busy running at a hundred miles per minute as he takes in the sight before him. he imagines george crying, _sobbing_ as he teases him relentlessly. he thinks about the way that george’s mascara would run down his face while clay fucks his throat, making him choke and gag on his cock. clay knows he’s already dripping at the thought of fucking george so good that he cries nonstop, the wet mascara smearing down his cheeks with his tears.

george has indulged in clay’s crying kink multiple times since they finally got together, but sometimes he still manages to feel ashamed about it. he feels guilty for getting off on george’s tears even after george has expressed that he’s perfectly fine with it. sometimes he has such dirty thoughts, ones that make him ashamed but aroused nonetheless. he thinks about being rough with george, pushing him around and being mean until he cries, until he’s sobbing underneath him. he wants to break george, wants to destroy him.

george has said that he wants it, too.

late nights after they’ve come down from their high and cleaned up, they lie together under the covers and whisper the filthy things that they fantasize about. that’s how george learned the full details of clay’s dacryphilia, about what set it off and what in particular gets him going the most. it’s like a fun little exchange of secrets, and clay always buzzes with excitement when george tells him what he likes in return. clay remembers all the dirty thoughts that flashed in his mind as soon as george told him about his pain kink, about how he likes being hurt. clay has a mild pain kink too, sticking to just hair pulling and spanking, but george’s liking for pain is much more… intense.

from all the details george gave him, he’s the epitome of a masochist. he wants his hair pulled, wants to be spanked, wants to be slapped, wants to be whipped, wants to be bitten, wants to be overstimulated without stopping, he wants to be _hurt_. clay was practically drooling as george told him exactly what he wanted. that was a few weeks ago, and he hasn’t had an opportunity to act upon george’s wishes, but maybe tonight is the night.

“get on your knees,” clay commands breathlessly.

george hesitates at first but then lowers himself until he’s kneeling. he sits on the floor of the shower opposite the faucet, clay standing in front of him and protecting him from getting his face drenched in the spray of water.

clay takes his hand and places it under george’s chin, raising his head up so that their eyes meet. he looks so fucking good with the smeared makeup dripping down his face.

“you said before that you like being treated rough…” clay says, watching george’s face to see if there is any disagreement, but george just sits there patiently and listens. he continues, asking, “can i do that tonight? be rough with you?”

“yeah, i’m more than okay with that,” george whispers. “can you tell me what you’re going to do so that i’ll know what to expect?”

“yeah of course, i don’t want to do anything you wouldn’t like,” clay says, moving his hand to cup george’s cheek, who nuzzles his face into his palm. george looks up at him expectantly, waiting for him to tell him everything he has planned. clay swallows nervously.

“i want to fuck your throat,” he begins, noticing the way george shifts slightly and runs his tongue along his lip. “and i want to be rough. i want to make you choke and gag until you’re crying, pull your hair so hard it hurts.”

george lets out a muffled moan at the thought. clay can tell he’s obviously interested in the idea from his visceral response. he suddenly speaks up, asking, “can i ask you to do something else, too?”

“yeah, anything,” clay says.

“can you hit me?” his voice is quiet when he asks clay, who stands there in surprise. “i want you to slap me, like, on my face,” he adds nervously.

“i can do that. will you promise me that you’ll safeword if you need to?” clay asks. they established safewords early on in their relationship, the typical traffic light system for verbal safewords and tapping for nonverbal safewords.

“i promise,” george says, and then tilts his head so he can take clay’s thumb into his mouth, suckling on it. clay’s dick twitches in excitement.

“okay, i’m gonna start then,” he informs, and george just looks up at him with his sultry smeared eye makeup, still sucking on his thumb. he’s so gorgeous, clay can’t believe how lucky he is. he raises his hand then brings it hard down onto george’s cheek.

george’s head snaps to the side with the force of clay’s slap and he lets out the most beautiful fucking noise clay has ever heard. he obviously enjoyed it a lot from the way he sits there for a moment and gathers his breath, cock twitching against his thigh. he turns his head back to face clay, looking up at him with his dark makeup-smeared eyes. a grin crosses his face, and in a raspy voice, he whispers “ _again_.”

clay slaps his pretty face again. george moans louder than before, shifting his weight uncomfortably—clay vaguely realizes that the hard porcelain of the shower floor is probably hurting his knees.

“aw, does it hurt?” clay asks sweetly.

george nods his head.

“good,” clay says, taking one foot and resting it on top of george’s thigh, pressing his knee even harder into the unforgiving porcelain. george _moans_ , he loves the pain, he loves the satisfying soreness of the bruises that clay leaves on his body. his cheek is starting to bloom red from the impact of clay’s hand striking his face, and clay can’t believe how gorgeous he looks like this.

“wanna suck me off?” clay asks, grabbing at his neglected dick and giving it a few firm strokes. george nods his head quickly and reaches up to grab clay’s cock, but his hand is swatted away. “no touching. you’re only allowed to use your mouth.”

george opens his mouth wide and tries to take clay’s cock into his mouth, but without his hands to guide it, it slips past his lips and brushes against his cheek. he tries again but clay takes a small step backwards, making george chase after his dick and nearly topple over while trying to reach it. clay loves seeing the humiliated look on george’s face as he closes his mouth and sits there, defeated.

“need some help?” he asks, his voice condescending and mean. he doesn’t miss the way george’s dick twitches.

“yes, please,” george says quietly.

clay laughs at him and threads his hands through george’s hair, pulling roughly on it and forcing his head back, making his mouth fall open in a pained gasp. he easily slides his hard cock inside, pressing flat against george’s tongue. he gives george a second to adjust, and then pushes all the way in.

he doesn’t start thrusting immediately, instead he sits there, warming his cock inside george’s mouth and humming in pleasure when george gags around him. he slowly pulls back until only the tip is resting inside george’s hot mouth, his fingers digging deeper into george’s scalp as he drags his tongue slowly along the head of his cock. he thrusts back in all the way, until george’s lipstick stained lips are stretched wide around the base of his cock, and then he pulls out completely. clay slaps his cock onto george’s cheek, the same cheek he had struck twice, now burning red. he drags the tip of his dick along george’s face, trailing it back towards his mouth and leaving precum smeared in its wake. he presses the head gently into george’s willing mouth, and pauses.

“you ready?” clay asks. george hums in assent and lazily licks the precum off the flushed tip. clay tightens his grip on george’s hair and yanks him down onto his cock.

george gags as expected, but he powers through it and allows clay to push his head down until he has taken him all the way to the base. clay roughly yanks his hair as he fucks his mouth, pulling relentlessly, causing tears to spring to george’s eyes.

clay’s breathing gets heavier at the sight of tears welling in george’s eyes at the rough throat fucking. the shiny tears build up further and start to spill down george’s cheeks, streaking the mascara even further. his lipstick is practically gone at this point, washed away by the water and spit, but it doesn’t matter because his natural lips are getting fucked red from the rough treatment clay is giving him. clay doesn’t think he’s ever seen such a beautiful sight in his life than the one beneath him, george with his lips wrapped around his cock and gorgeous tears trailing down his cheeks, makeup completely smeared and ruined.

“fuck, you’re so pretty,” clay praises, groaning when george looks up at him with red eyes. “wish i could take a picture of you like this, so fucking filthy. look at you, crying for my dick. poor baby is messing up his makeup.” he takes a hand and cups george’s face, dragging his thumb along his cheek and smearing the mascara even further. “i’ll make karl fix your makeup for you just so i can ruin it again.”

george makes a face and clay allows him to pull off his cock. “don’t mention karl while i’m sucking your dick,” he complains, then goes back down on him. clay half-moans half-laughs at the statement while george hollows his cheeks and takes him all the way into his throat.

clay pulls back and angles his dick so that he’s pressing it into george’s cheek, and he takes one hand and caresses the bulge from the outside. george is trembling, maybe from the way his knees are digging painfully into the floor of the shower, maybe from the way his dick has gone untouched this whole time, or maybe from the way that clay shoves his cock down his throat and brings tears to his eyes. the steam from the shower floods the entire stall, fogging up the glass door and filling both their lungs.

his deliberate pace only gets rougher, the spray of water starting to hit george as clay shifts slightly, moving around and allowing the water to pour onto george. it splashes onto his face and cascades down his nose, almost blocking his intake of air. george’s eyes go wide as he starts to panic from the lack of oxygen, but clay doesn’t stop, he just keeps fucking his throat relentlessly. he sobs around clay’s cock and tries to pull off, but clay holds him there by his hair and continues his merciless abuse of george’s throat. he desperately tries to pull off, the water threatening to rush into his nose with each breath. george ignores the no-touching rule so that he can place his hands on clay’s hips in an attempt to push him away, but clay only wraps his hands around the back of george’s head and fucks his tightening throat. george smacks clay’s thigh three times, using his nonverbal safeword.

clay instantly lets go of george’s head and allows him to pull off. george coughs violently and sniffles as he takes in big gulps of air. the tears are streaming down his face nonstop, sobs wracking through his entire body as he shakes and trembles.

“are you okay?” clay asks in concern, petting george’s hair gently.

george nods and sniffles, unable to form words. he coughs again and catches his breath before speaking.

“m’good, just couldn’ breathe,” he rasps.

“do you need to stop?” clay rubs his thumb on george’s cheek to comfort him.

“no, i don’t wanna stop,” he says through his sobs. clay feels guilty for the way that arousal surges through his veins at every wet noise that comes from george’s throat.

“don’t stop, just less choking?” he requests, sniffling.

“okay, baby, do you want me to be gentle from now on?”

“n-no, you can pull my hair and s-slap me, just no breathplay,” george says, looking up at clay. his eyes are red and his nose is runny, but he still looks gorgeous. clay can never get over how perfect he looks when he cries.

even though george said he doesn’t need clay to be gentle, he starts off slow. he gently places the tip of his cock on george’s lower lip, pressing down slightly and opening his mouth. he slips the head inside of george’s hot mouth, moaning when george tongues at the head of his dick, looking up at clay from below. george is hiccuping with every breath, still crying slightly while clay pushes his cock the rest of the way in.

“you’re so pretty, even with your messy makeup,” he coos, shallowly fucking george’s mouth. “i wanna see you like this all the time, so gorgeous, crying and smearing your makeup. aw, look, even your lipstick has rubbed off.” clay runs his finger along george’s lips that are stretched wide around his cock. clay tugs on his hair which causes him to moan, sending vibrations to clay’s dick stuffed down his throat. george is so focused on the stinging in his scalp that he doesn’t notice when his teeth graze sharply against clay’s sensitive cock.

clay quickly pulls george off by his hair, slapping him once on his cheek. george sobs at the action, and it only serves to get clay closer to climax.

“watch your fucking teeth,” he growls.

he waits for george to calm down, but his crying doesn’t stop, tears keep slipping down his cheeks and his shoulders shake, the sound of his sobs echoing off the shower walls. clay is so fucking turned on.

“color?” clay asks.

“green, ‘m green,” george says between his cries.

now with the permission to continue, clay pushes back inside george’s mouth. his throat vibrates and contracts with each sob, and the tears never stop streaming down his face. his makeup is nearly washed away completely at this point, revealing his bare skin that has become flushed red from their actions. he’s pretty.

“i’m close, baby,” clay moans, and it makes george suck harder and press his tongue into all the spots that make clay whimper. he’s still so enthusiastic even after being used so roughly, clay is so proud of him.

“you’re such a good whore, you love being treated like this,” clay growls, a statement rather than a question. “i’m gonna come down your throat and you’re going to swallow it all.”

george nods as best as he can while clay is still fucking his throat, screwing his eyes shut and squeezing more tears down his cheeks. gorgeous. clay isn’t going to last with the way that george cries around him, sending more vibrations to his cock.

“coming, baby, don’t let any of it spill,” clay says, and falls over the edge. he gently caresses george’s head as he nearly doubles over, emptying himself inside george’s mouth. he can feel the way george’s throat works around him to swallow every hot spurt of come that fills his mouth, letting clay pump all of it straight down his throat. clay finally pulls out of george’s mouth, letting him catch his breath with spit and come dribbling from his lower lip.

“you alright?” clay asks, leaning with one arm on the shower wall to keep himself upright.

“‘m good, so good,” george says, swallowing again to try to get all the leftover come down his throat. he’s still crying quietly, and clay takes his hand and helps him rise to his feet on shaky legs.

“come here, sweetheart. you did so well, let me give you a reward,” clay says, wrapping george’s shaking body in his arms and reaching down to grab george’s leaking cock. george keens as soon as clay touches him, reaching out for clay and grabbing at his body to ground himself.

“does it feel nice?” clay asks, stroking george in just the way he likes it. he knows it’s a matter of seconds before george finally comes.

“feels nice, so nice,” george whispers deliriously into clay’s neck. it only takes a few more rough strokes before george comes. he’s shaking and trembling violently as he falls apart in clay’s hands, beginning to cry again at the rush of endorphins. when george looks up at him with teary eyes and hiccuping sobs, clay knows he’s so gone.

“alright, baby, let's get you cleaned up,” he says softly, prying george’s body from where it’s glued to his. george whines but lets his body be guided under the shower spray. the hot water has almost run out considering how long they’ve been in the shower, and he can see george start to shiver from the temperature.

“cold…” he mumbles.

“i know, baby, we can just rinse our bodies and then get out. it won’t take just a second,” clay reassures him. they gently rinse the come and sweat off their bodies, clay wiping the spit from george’s chin. the water is too cold to stay in there long enough to wash their hair, so clay just shuts the faucet off and they step out.

he grabs two towels for them to dry themselves off. he hands one to george who wraps it around his body, and clay takes his own towel and begins drying his hair and then his body. it takes him a second to realize that george hasn’t moved, he just stands there shivering with the towel wrapped around his body, staring at the floor. clay’s heart breaks in two.

“baby, are you okay? did i go too rough?” clay asks, holding him like he’s made of glass. george shakes his head, sniffles, and looks up at dream with red eyes. _oh_.

he’s having a sub-drop. it’s very rare for george to get like this, so that explains why clay didn’t realize right away. clay wraps his own towel around his waist and then reaches for george’s, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead while he does.

“i’m gonna dry you off, okay?”

george wipes his eyes and nods. he lets clay guide his body so that he can towel him dry, standing there quietly. clay isn’t surprised by the silence, he usually becomes nonverbal when he gets like this. the only sounds he makes are small hums and sniffles every now and then. clay walks over to the sink, grabbing a rag and wetting it, then squeezes a small amount of the facewash that’s sitting on the sink counter onto it. when he glances in the mirror, he’s surprised at the image that looks back at him.

his makeup is completely ruined as well. the mascara is dripping down his cheeks just like george’s is, and what of his lipstick that is remaining is smeared and streaked. he looks ruined, nearly as bad as george. instead of worrying about himself, he returns to george and begins to clean the makeup off his face. he gently drags the wet rag under his eyes, cleaning up the black tear tracks. he makes george shut his eyes and carefully scrubs the eye makeup away as best as he can, but some of it still remains. once he has made sure that george is all cleaned up and dry, then he washes his own makeup off and they exit the bathroom.

clay keeps one hand on george’s waist to ground him as they walk into the bedroom. george is still shivering slightly, still wrapped up in his wet towel.

“do you want to put on some dry clothes?” clay asks. george nods his head silently.

he reaches into his drawer instead of george’s, drawing out one of his own hoodies and sweatpants. they’ll definitely be too big on george, but he hopes that the scent will make him feel safer. he carefully drops george’s towel and helps him step into the sweatpants, pulling them up his legs and tying the drawstring tighter than is usually needed for himself. he takes the hoodie and pulls it over george’s head, allowing him to guide his arms through the too-big arm holes.

“go get in bed for me, okay? i’ll be there in a second.”

george shuffles over to the bed and crawls inside, peering at clay from beneath the covers. clay smiles at how cute he looks. he retrieves some of his own clothes to dress himself, takes the wet towels and puts them in the hamper, and then takes his spot next to george on the bed. george instantly curls up next to him, wrapping his arms around clay’s body.

“you good?” clay murmurs.

“mhm, just sub-drop,” george whispers, finally speaking.

“i figured. let’s take a nap, and then you’ll feel better when you wake up.”

george hums in content. “okay. love you.”

clay smiles, hugging george tighter. “love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> ik its kinda whiplash having this fic go from rough throat fucking to them cuddling in bed and saying i love you, but i had an anon on cc request subdrop/aftercare so i thought id include that :)
> 
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